


Saturday Night, Monday Morning

by JQ (musicmillennia)



Series: Dragons, Fuck-Ups, and Pixie Dust [1]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Dragons, Exposition Heavy, F/M, It's awesome, Len Loves Skirts, Magic, Necromancy, Pixies, Sign Language, Slice of Life, Sorcerers, Zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-06-10
Packaged: 2018-07-14 04:52:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7154351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicmillennia/pseuds/JQ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A necromancer and a pixie make it work. This time, introductions are in order: meet the two major players and get a little slice of life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Saturday Night, Monday Morning

**Author's Note:**

> The use of geodes in this is an idea I had yesterday while playing one of the many hidden object games I have on my phone. I wanted to give it a test run before doing anything big with it, but I'm pretty sure I'm gonna use it in my book ;D lemme know what you think!
> 
> WARNING: this piece is an introductory one, something to get us started off and dipping our feet into this world. Meaning, it's exposition-heavy. VERY exposition-heavy. I know some people aren't huge fans of that, so I thought I'd tell you first. I've kept this short, so it shouldn't be too bad.

Sara knows the geode at her feet is not an accident because 1) raw geodes aren't exactly common in the city, and 2) it'd been thrown at precisely the right time for the malevolent spirit she'd been sending back to the netherworld to saw it open with its dripping serrated jowls. Also, 3) only fae and dwarves use geodes as methods of communication, and the revealed crystals inside are glimmering with a message. Sounds like a pixie's whispering.

Oh great. Exactly what Sara needs on her Saturday night: a pixie wanting to contact her. Nevertheless, geodes have a way of rolling after their intended recipient; they can be stubborn little gnomes when they put their rocky minds to it. So really she has no choice but to pick up both halves and press them to her ears.

Together, the crystals whisper a complete message:  _"Gin of all sorts, twenty minutes, Waverider."_

Sara rolls her eyes. She knows exactly who sent this one, and he has her number. Could've just sent a text, even called, but  _no_ , he's got to make it as dramatic as possible, short of swooping down in a burst of fractal sparks. After gently holding the geode together so it can reform into one rock, she snatches her bag and gets on her way anyhow.

After all, hanging out with a pixie like Leonard Snart's not all bad. At least it isn't if you know him like Sara does, though even then it can be hard not to break his wings over your knee...it's less violent, how about that?

No, wait. If anything it's  _more_ violent.

Sara may want to reconsider her choice in dates.

* * *

The Waverider's a bar under the veil. People without a sense of magic see a FOR RENT sign, while everything and everyone else sees windows swirling with stars and galaxies, with occasional space ships from all over time flying through. The place doesn't need a sign with such a display.

The ceiling, made of green and gold rivers of magic, provides a low light to contrast the bar's electric blue backlights. Tables and booths have different planets in their surfaces, with different customers at each one. Sara grins when she sees Mick Rory, a dragon friend of hers, basking in Mercury's heat.

Basically it's one of the dorkiest bars out there, but their drinks are  _phenomenal_. Or, as Leonard Snart likes to say, "out of this world."

Speaking of that punny pixie, he's balanced on the rim of a bottle, regular-sized straw almost too large for his tiny mouth. His aura flows with different shades of blue on a backdrop of navy, but it does nothing to hide the layered petals of his skirt and short-sleeved shirt, trimmed so they stop at his knees and elbows: black rose, with a few carved thorns for a belt.

He hasn't bothered with a human suit or an illusion. Even his ears are kept pointed. Sara takes her seat with a smile.

She signs, " _Got your message."_

She takes out a small magnifying glass from her bag so she can see Leonard sign back: " _So I see. Hello, Sara."_

Magnified, his smirk is big and full of its usual mischief. Yet if he tries to speak to her in his true form, all that'll come out for Sara's ears is an indiscernible squeak. Just thinking about it makes her chuckle to herself.

 _"You owe me a drink and cards then,"_ she says.

_"I am a fae of my word."_

They pull up the holo-display, another reason why the Waverider's so popular. It's owned by a sorcerer whose source of magic is temporal fluxes; basically he knows a shit ton about future tech and how to properly combine it with magic. A holographic deck of cards appears, automatically dealing Leonard and Sara's hands. They float in front of them, low enough so they can see each other and sign.

A waiter pops by—quite literally, as their bones keep popping as they move. Being what she is, Sara instinctively knows that the spirit inside only recently reunited with their corpse, and it's a loose bond at best. Rip never could turn down a lost cause.

The skull tilts at them inquisitively, eyes rolling from one creature to the other. Underneath their turtleneck, more bones pop.

Sara orders a helping of cheese fries and a Hex, a drink named after Rip's  _darling_ husband who drinks alcohol fit for a car to guzzle. It tastes awful but the effects are astounding; Sara might not be able to get drunk on non-magic stuff, but one shot of that'll at least give her a nice buzz.

After the zombie trots off, Sara signs to Leonard,  _"So what pushed you to toss a geode at me tonight? Anything special?"_

Leonard plays a card before taking another sip of his drink. His magic supports Sara's magnifying glass so she doesn't have to hold it up to see his reply:  _"Actually, no."_

Sara raises an eyebrow at that.  _"Oh really? Did you miss me, Leonard?"_

He looks distinctly unimpressed.  _"Didn't want to sit with Mick on Mercury. Not really my element."_

It'll be a silent day for a banshee when Leonard Snart stops reminding everybody that he's a snow pixie. Sara reaches over and taps at one of the icicles poking out of his arms. The bigger ones have already broken through the petals on his torso. He offers a weak push in return where he used to turn her finger blue from sheer proximity.

Sara's grinning again.  _"It's okay to admit you missed me,"_ she teases.

Thankfully her reflexes let her catch the eyeball before it can fall into her arriving cheese fries. Leonard's chipmunk laughter rings sharp in her ears. He looks like a goth Tinkerbell with the way he hovers in midair as he cackles.

Once the embarrassed waiter scurries off, Sara mumbles something about washing her hands. She adds with emphasized movements,  _"Don't touch the fries until I get back!"_

Leonard just smirks again and draws an X over his heart. Sara rolls her eyes.

 _Pixies_.

* * *

Leonard gets a few points for not actually touching the fries. He uses his ice to cut the tip off one, then lugs his armful to the cheese-covered part. His holographic hand and Sara's magnifying glass follow him as he settles on the napkin next to his drink to eat.

After a few minutes of silent play, he flutters his wings to draw her eyes.

He signs,  _"Did you miss me?"_

There's a devious expression on his tiny face, so Sara answers honestly to throw him off. She shrugs and gives him a nod.

Leonard blinks.

Sara says,  _"It's really okay to say that you missed me too. It'd be a bad sign if you didn't."_

In response, Leonard takes a big sip of his beer. The necromancer holds out her hand expectantly.

Slowly, he lifts himself into the air and flies onto her palm. He taps Morse code onto her skin, barely there touches that Sara can only just translate:  _I did._

Instead of joking around about it, Sara takes the gesture for what it is and gives him a sincere smile. She takes her time signing,  _"Thank you_."

Leonard's aura glows a brighter blue. He reaches out and presses himself against her lips in a brief peck. Once again she can barely feel the brush of his little lips, but the cold of them is usually enough.

The pixie darts back to his spot and plays another card.

Sara can't help accusing aloud, "You cheated!"

Her voice comes out far too deep to understand. Leonard holds up his hands so she'll repeat in signs. When she does, he shows her a Cheshire grin.

 _"Are you surprised?"_ he asks.

Sara pokes him again. _"No. But I thought we were having a moment. Best five out of nine, let's go."_

There's a quiet happiness behind his eyes even as he continues parading around with his usual flair. Sara loves that more than anything.

All in all, not a bad Saturday night.

* * *

It's Monday mornings that suck ass.

Sara invited Leonard over on Sunday night, since Saturday went so well. She barely silences her alarm in time before he ices it.

He'd made a nice pallet on her pillow using a few tissues and snow. From under the makeshift sheets, Sara feels a cold glare jabbing the back of her head while she trudges to her closet.

Angry chipmunk babbling pierces the room as she tosses Leonard's human suit at the bed. Huffing, she signs,  _"No offense, but I'm not leaving a pixie alone in my apartment, and I'm definitely not letting that stay in my closet either. Get moving."_

She can only see a tiny blue whorl of light from here, but she can still feel the bird flipped at her face. When he's off the job, Leonard is anything but a morning person. It would be kinda funny, how childish he gets, if Sara wasn't the same. She sticks her tongue at him before tearing through her clothes.

As Sara yanks off her pajama top, human-sized hands toss her a bra. Human suits are magic and synthetic materials' greatest love-child. Sara can't begin to understand the mechanics behind it, but if you asked her friend Ray he could tell you all about it. Personally she's not a huge fan of them, though she appreciates their benefits. This way, creatures don't need to use so much energy on maintaining illusions—the veil can only do so much, you see—and just walk around like normal folk.

Here, Sara can't see his pointed ears, icicle body, or even a hint of his wings. He can't wear his flower-petal skirts and grass-leaf leggings, much less his favorite frost goggles for fast flying. He stands in front of her dressed in plain black thermal clothes, boots, and a dark blue jacket that doesn't hold a candle to his aura with its dull shade.

Yet he can look at her and _speak_. "Good morning, Sara."

Sara tries out a good morning kiss, keeping it close-mouthed since she definitely didn't brush her teeth last night. His lips feel a little rubbery, but they pucker just like a human's would.

"Morning, Leonard," she replies.

They stand here like idiots for a second. It's strange hearing what the other's voice is supposed to sound like.

Sara says, just because she can, "Hello."

He parrots, "Hello."

The next second they're going separate ways: Sara to her tiny bathroom, Leonard to the front room.

He calls over his shoulder, "Be seeing you, Sara."

She calls back, "See yah."

But the door doesn't open.

In a flash of light, something cold and blue tickles Sara's cheek.

She grins into her hands as Leonard hurries out.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
